Through Black Eyes
by PinkAxolotl85
Summary: Pinioning is the act of surgically removing one pinion joint, the joint of a bird's wing farthest from the body, to permanently prevent flight. (WingFic)
1. Wolf In Crow's Clothing

**Tags:**

 **Dexter Grif/Dick Simmons**

 **Dick Simmons, Dexter Grif, OC's, But none of great importance**

 **Child Abuse, Childhood Trauma, Child Neglect, Wingfic, Alternate Universe - Wings, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Autistic Simmons,** **Bigotry & Prejudice, Physical Disability, Speciesism, Angst, Now With Art Because That's How I Roll**

I'd say mind the tags but this is Fanfic-net. Here are the tags from AO3 by the way and please do mind them. I'll be updating them as I go so some will not go for all chapters. Child abuse is only fully shown in this chapter, so far at least, references **will** occur later, however. Any other updates will be put here.

* * *

I **highly** suggest you read this on **AO3 (Archive Of Our Own)** (Under same name) instead since AO3 fully supports indents which this fic was written with, and blank lines, both of which makes the story much more visually appealing. But reading it there also makes it much easier to read in the long run, instead of it just being the wall of text it is here. Just looking at the story here makes me feel sad down to the core of my being.

I'll keep updating here because I know there are some people here that don't touch AO3 but just know that how you read it here **isn't** how it's supposed to read.

Thank you.

* * *

 **[Chapter One] Wolf In Crow's Clothing**

* * *

Richard couldn't remember a time where he wasn't hated.

He was an illegitimate child, a bastard who nobody wanted. His mother would cry every night, beg over her bed for forgiveness from her husband and from God. When their voices would rise and the shrill caws of crows echoed throughout the house Richard would always hide under his bed, tiny fluffed wings wrapped tightly around him.

On Christmas they would go to church for the entire day, he'd always talk to the other children there and they'd share gifts between one another. The presents he gave out were only ever mailed back days later.

Everyone would sit down to sing hymns together smile and be happy, he never understood why other avians thought crows were bad singers.

But then again, he was never allowed to stay longer than the first one or two hymns, his mother would drag him out with tears in her eyes, his father soon following. The next few years he wasn't even allowed to sit down with the other children at all, instead being once again pulled out.

The black eyes of the parents would always follow him, their children's blue ones always averted.

The fourth time it happened he was seven, and he had screamed and cried, _'Why can't I play with the other children‽ Why is it always_ _ **me**_ _that has to go‽'_

He'd looked up into his father's eyes and saw no comfort. No pupil was ever visible like the children and like him, his father's and mother's eyes were just black tar pits that stared down at him.

 _Judging him._

Frowning his father had reached for his hand and left Richard to place his small one over his, tears still welling in his eyes and face stained with tear tracks, nose running.

He was made to stumble, a sharp tug on his hand arm making him cry out in pain.

'Please stop, Father, _Father!_ I'm sorry!'

His shoulder burned and when he finally fell he was only pulled up again by the fluff of his throat and thrown into the back seat of the car. A hand was raised to strike him and he pulled his wings and arms over his head.

 ** _'_** ** _I'm sorry!'_**

The hit never came.

….

Whenever the home door slammed he would flinch and this time was no different, the sound of keys scraping against the metal lock would hurt his ears. His father's figure loomed over him, his wings raised and talons scratching harshly on the floor.

 _'_ _Children are meant to be seen and not hear, Richard, you've embarrassed me and your mother today. Go to your room and reread the chapters on how you act around those who care for you.'_

Before he turned away to find safety in his room his father once again gripped and tugged at his throat fluff, making small downy tug free with spots of blood.

Tears started to well up again.

 _'_ _Now, what do you say to your mother and me?'_

When he didn't instantly reply his father gave another yank and _ground his teeth together_ , 'Do not make me get the belt, _Richard.'_

….

 _'_ _Sorry.'_

….

He didn't like most of the children anymore.

He used to play with them on the streets of their cul-de-sac, cars rarely came around and when they did they drove slowly, so it was safe and allowed. They used to ride bikes and pretend they could fly by flapping their tiny wings as the wind blew by.

Sometimes things would get loud with the cheeps of young crows like them, parents would come and complain. Some would go back inside after they promised to be quieter, but most would only look at him and sneer then take a hold of their child and pull them back to their house.

Richard liked playing with Theo the most, he lived in a big house behind a coded fence and had a trampoline. But they didn't go to the same school, so when Richard left in the car with his mother to go to school he was left alone.

The school was outside of their town, on the edges of a different one. Each child was different, not like the uniformity of the children of his all crow part of town. Some of them here were large avians of prey with big fangs, talons, and wings, but others were small with bright colours and beautiful songs.

The children didn't like him so he never spoke with them.

Crows like him were creepy there, scary eyes with no whites, feathers too black, voice and call to scary and rough.

So, one day he dragged his desk to the corner of the room so he would be left alone.

The teacher never even questioned it.

….

Despite all his flaws he was still tolerated and cared for by his family and sometimes the outside crow community would help too. Occasionally he'd be allowed to play with their children, but it'd always end with arguing and Richard hated the conflict of it all.

But still, he was allowed to talk, and live, and be happy, as long he _never_ drew attention to himself.

Richard was fine with that; the eyes of the crows would only ever look at him with blackness and disdain anyway. He preferred to watch the children from afar and let blue eyes meet blue.

 _He never wanted his eyes to become those soulless black pits.  
_

But, like everything else in Richards life, it just got worse.

Pale and shining grey adult feathers should have shown here, running between his still fluffy black wings and tail feathers and reaching upwards over his neck and throat, mingling in with fluffy head feathers, then sloping over his shoulders and down into the black feathers of his chest.

It would have shown his true heritage as a hooded crow and it would be celebrated by everyone.

A first moulting party.

He would finally be accepted into the community as something other than the _burden he was._

What instead grew out from his fluff was instead awful, rough, dark grey and black feathers intertwined with the proper pure grey ones. There was no clear line between sleek black feathers and grey like there should be.

His blue eyes morphed to black, removing his pupil and making him look like… Them.

Grey mottled into black and black into grey over all his body feathers. Nowhere on his body had the beautiful shine of smooth grey feathers nor the gorgeous obsidian of black ones.

This was enough to send further waves of worry and disgust rippling throughout his family and the town. Hooded crows _shouldn't_ look like him, and yet there he was; a small nine-year-old with disgusting feathers that simply _couldn't_ exist.

Unless someone was lying.

Eyes which had previously been averted away from his family over the years were drawn instantly to his mother. Rumours were spread about how the _bastard child_ had somehow become more abnormal and hideous. In an instant, he and his family were shoved into the spotlight once more.

Avians aren't supposed to like others who are not of their species, blue jays like blue jays and robins like robins. It was clear-cut, both biologically and socially with no exceptions, like it should be. Even if a rebellious blue tit teenager decided to get frisky with an eagle one night, Hybrids are a one in a thousand chance.

 _An oddity._

That's what Richard was, a rare statistical fuckup, hated for the acts of his mother.

 _His mother_ , a proud hooded crow that had decided to have an on-off affair with a _disgusting_ raven just outside of their town. She'd only decided to end it when his father put work to the side to take care of his now pregnant wife and soon to be child.

But the whore had now left her mark on their family.

When the bitch was chased off Richard and his father were left together. He tried to be nice, mild-mannered, polite, and follow the teachings of the bible and his father.

He tried.

He fucked up a lot, he didn't mean to, but he kept embarrassing his father. Never saying the right thing or making the other children cry as his father was talking to their parents with adult-things. Crying every time his father took the belt out or threw him against a wall, begging him to stop even though it was punishment he _deserved_.

….

 _Three years later, it had been a Monday and he hadn't meant to do it._

The boy kept bringing his friends to push and trip him in the corridors. They took his pencil cases and food and threw things at him in class. So, he had told the teacher and she'd just gone on a spiel of how you treat others like how you want to be treated.

They looked him in the eye across the classroom and he had immediately regretted it.

They were behind him after class, he could see them in the reflection of the window as he walked. Anxiety had welled up in his stomach, telling him to fly away.

 _Get away._

But he didn't get away.

He ground his teeth together, making young and short fangs catch against his cheek.

He'd turned around flaring his wings and smashed the boys head into the window and then again onto its lip.

Blood stained its red bricks.

The boy was on the ground crying and cradling his head, his friends standing to the side looking unsure whether to run or go to their friend's aid.

Richard knew he should have felt bad for the boy.

But, this was the most control he'd had over anything, _he'd done this_. Blankly he'd looked down at the crying, weak, broken, and beaten, boy and instead _he'd felt powerful._

Overjoyed at the prospect of hurting another.

…

The boy had to get stitches and would most likely have permanent scars. His mother had wanted assault charges laid on him, the only thing stopping her was the actual school.

Expulsion had apparently been the only option for him, decided right then and there before the day was out. Richard guessed he's not doing a very good job of making people reconsider crows.

Father had dragged him back to the car, keeping Richard out of view from the other children with his large wings curled around him, keeping him close to his side. Feigning care and concern. Richard knew he was going to be disciplined

He'd also known that non-crows wouldn't understand and they'd get father in trouble If he had ever told or showed others what his father did.

He didn't want that, his father loved him, and it was always his fault anyway, forcing his father's hand.

 _I don't want him to disappear as well._

….

Keys had scraped against the doors lock again, sounding loud in the silence of the house.

 _'_ _I'm sorry, father. I didn't mean to do it. I didn't mean for him to get hurt, I was just scared, I'm sorry.'_

'But you did mean to do it, didn't you _Richard_? You hurt that other boy because you _wanted to_ , you're a sick fuck, Richard.' Soft black fluff no longer grew on his throat, so father had pulled at feathers instead, knowing how much it hurt Richard didn't stop him.

'I'm sorry! Really! _Please._ '

Father had started to drag him towards to kitchen, he wanted to say more beg for forgiveness he knew he didn't deserve, but a further jerk of his father's wrist cut him off and made him choke.

'Be **quiet** Richard, you are _not allowed_ to _apologise_ here. Not after you _humiliated_ me in front of **everyone**!'

He was pulled into the kitchen with his father and finally, tears started to fall.

 _'_ _Look at me, Richard.'_

Instead, he looked down and kept crying, inhales becoming increasingly hard as his throat constricted. He didn't want to look him in the eye,

 _He didn't want to._

Sharp claws punctured his cheeks as his face was forced upwards. Still, he didn't want to look at his fathers all black eyes. _Please, no._

The light of the kitchen was blocked off as his father's black wings enveloped him, making him feel trapped. Grown fangs had started to grind together, his father pushing claws further into his cheeks, dragging down.

Trails of blood started to mix in with feathers.

 _Get away._

 _But this is father._

 ** _It's for my own good._**

His father turned away and the harsh light of the kitchen met him again. Placing his fingers on his right cheek, when he pulled them away they came back with blood and tears. He barely found it in him to react, _blood, that was normal_.

Richard flinched as one of the kitchen drawers was slammed open, the knife block was dragged out. He pulled his wings close against him again, and forced back the urge to cover his ears.

'Father?'

'You don't get to call me that Richard, not until you're sorry and you _mean it_.'

His father stalked towards Richard, he wanted to back away but he was frozen, wings pulled around him as he quivered. There was a glint of metal in his hand.

He was shoved onto the ground, stars burst into view as his skull hit the tiling with a _crack._

Pulling him around onto his stomach his father pushed his whole weight onto him, his knee digging into Richards back. He couldn't even try to get away, push back, _resist in any way._

 _Hard to breathe,_

 _Don't cry._

His left wing was grasped at and the fluff and down ripped away, the whole thing was pulled out straight.

Richard screamed as it was pulled too far, the bones popping and the muscles straining.

The blood from his cheek and stained feathers dripped onto the ground.

Father raised the knife,

And –

* * *

I **highly** suggest you read this on **AO3 (Archive Of Our Own)** (Under same name) instead since AO3 fully supports indents which this fic was written with, and blank lines, both of which makes the story much more visually appealing. But reading it there also makes it much easier to read in the long run, instead of it just being the wall of text it is here. Just looking at the story here makes me feel sad down to the core of my being.

I'll keep updating here because I know there are some people here that don't touch AO3 but just know that how you read it here **isn't** how it's supposed to read.

Thank you.

* * *

 **Notes:**

I don't know how to do multichapter fics~

I hope the weird jumping around of time and tenses feels deliberate like I meant it to be... haha, I'm sorry.

Sorry for mistakes, they'll probably be fixed soon because I always seem to find only _after_ I post it.

I'm going to be adding art soon on what Simmons and such actually looks like so yeah. **\- You can't view it here on Fanfic-net, sorry, go to AO3 if you want to view it.**

Might go up to mature but we'll see, it's T on AO3 but like Fanfic-nets a dick place so yeah, if this story mysteriously goes missing you'll know why.

More tags are going to be added as I go.

Also, the interrobang is a vastly underrated thing, seriously.


	2. H Y B R I D - F L I G H T L E S S

I **highly** suggest you read this on **AO3 (Archive Of Our Own)** (Under same name) instead since AO3 fully supports indents which this fic was written with, and blank lines, both of which makes the story much more visually appealing. But reading it there also makes it much easier to read in the long run, instead of it just being the wall of text it is here. Just looking at the story here makes me feel sad down to the core of my being.

I'll keep updating here because I know there are some people here that don't touch AO3 but just know that how you read it here **isn't** how it's supposed to read.

Thank you.

There is art for this chapter, it can only be viewed on DA Tumblr or AO3. View my bio.

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 **[Chapter Two] HYBRID - FLIGHTLESS**

* * *

Simmons couldn't fly and it was a long time before he had sat down and fucking acknowledged it. His entire fledging was waiting until he _wasn't_ a fledgeling, waiting for that first flight, that first take off that made him an adult.

But it had never happened, he'd just sat around reading and learning instead because no matter what he tried he never made it more than a few feet off the ground. It took a broken arm before he decided that maybe _this was it,_ he just _wasn't_ going to fly.

Did that technically still make him a fledgeling? Still fledging and twenty-two. That's… Not something he wants to think about.

He was a Flightless Crow-Raven Hybrid with a base education and no head starts in life. Simmons is still sure that even if he _did_ have a higher education it wouldn't get him anywhere _anyway_ , nobody will hire a regular Hybrid never mind one that's as pointless as him.

What kind of avian can't fly? That was the thing that made them, _them_.

What a sad, _sad_ life he was in for.

So, when nowhere else would take him, he went to the military. One of the few places that legally wasn't allowed to discriminate the Flightless or Hybrids.

If nowhere else wanted him he'd force the military to take him or he'd cry prejudice.

 _Dick move Dick._

But it had worked though. In an attempt to fill up their quota list he'd been accepted almost instantly. He hated how he'd been put down into a statistic _again_.

At least this time it had got him somewhere.

Moving up in the world.

Take that bitches.

….

Here he was, everything finalised and his training squadron set. He'd also finished his basic training, or the basic training to prepare you for the basic training? God, he didn't want to think of the week that was literally all just repetition of ranks and how to salute correctly.

Currently, he was just waiting around in a cold room at the edges of the temporary station. The hanger bay was next door with the engines of ships taking off and entering clear to the ears of everybody waiting with him.

Waiting, with a bunch of _Flightless_.

Flightless that were all much higher rank than him so when they stared him down he held his tongue. Not worth stirring up an argument with the bunch he was going to walk into a plane with. Emu's were also notoriously violent so Simmons _definitely_ wasn't going test them.

But at least there was one person like him.

Round wings, curved talons, black feather masks around the eyes, he was certainly a type owl. With his head resting against the wall he was sleeping soundly, somehow ignoring the twittering of the Flightless around them.

He had a sling and hike around his right wing, hospitals only do that when the bone has been damaged so _something_ had obviously happened to this owl. Wings were pretty sturdy Simmons thought as he remembered all his failed flights over the years. He couldn't imagine what would do that to a wing, how much it had to have hurt, especially something that garnered a complete hike, tying it completely to the back.

 _Immovable._

Owl had a scar too, but certainly not as new as his damaged wing. It ran over his left eye down the bridge of his nose then over his cheek with a small nick on the neck. One long slice from either a knife or talon, it was _fascinating_. Maybe Owl had a penchant of hurting himself?

That would be something new, something interesting to watch, _observe_.

The sound of the door to the hanger rattling and slamming open startled everyone out of their seats.

Even Owl in the corner was now awake and at least appeared to be paying attention. He's probably exhausted Simmons noted, owls simply weren't meant to be up at these early hours. He bet he hadn't slept all night per normal and now has to stay awake for a transfer.

He's happy he's not him right now.

'Up and at em' guys, your flights ready. Hanger bay 2, ship 11-A, pilots already geared to go so ya' got me greetin' you 'nstead. Simmons walk with me.'

Instantly his ears prick up.

Still confused he stood where he was as the Flightless walked by, glancing at him out the corner of their eyes. Even Owl had given him a side glance an attempt at a smile.

He followed her a little way behind the rest of the group. Glancing down at her wings, fluff around her neck, and lack of hair feathering immediately made him more nervous.

 _Vulture._

'Sergeant says to catch you up on a few things, you at least good on what squad you goin' tah?'

Simmons thought about it for a moment, 'Uhh yeah, Squad two-four-four-three Planet-Tristen Base, twenty-six other trainees going with me, half are noc's half are duis. That's about it, sorry.'

A ships engine started up to the right him filling his ears with sound the roaring of flames. The previously quiet sounds of the hanger suddenly sounded _so_ much louder. He tried not to make his cringe noticeable but Vulture still narrowed her eyes at him when his wings twitched tighter.

She had an earpiece on and her eyes were shifting, her attention was at least divided.

Good.

'M'kay neat, the rest is about the actual flight. S' gonna' be a long one, first yer stoppin' off at a ship just outa' Earthen territory to drop these Flightless off then you'll be on yer way with Owl. Yer not goin' with tha' rest of yer team cause you've got extra checks and medical forms an' shit to do before'and.'

Simmons gave a hum of confirmation as he stepped into the back of the ship. This was normal stuff then; extra medical forms were expected and they probably needed more time and effort to work out a way to get him and Owl through checks and travel, especially with his… Disability.

The Flightless were already buckling up and a few had already brought the security bars down over their heads.

Owl was one of them.

'Righ', and if Owl doesn't know tell 'im the same thing, he's been in bases 'ospital for a while so e's well outta the loop at this point. Oh, sergeant also said you hadn't got yer' tags yet.'

The pieces of metal hit him right in the face making him jolt, he caught them before they fell to the ground. By the time Simmons had looked back up, she'd already brought out her pad and turned away from him, flicking through various messages and chatting quickly on her earpiece.

Vulture hadn't even looked back at him when she started talking again, 'Kay, so I've gotta' escort a ship down from fuckin' Moon Base-8, 'parently one of the passengers is done in fuckin' 'ead. See you never **_Hybrid_**.' …

He narrowed his eyes, wanted retort, _fuck you bitch_ , but she'd already started walking away so he guessed that was that. No point in drawing more attention to himself by shouting anything.

 _As satisfying as that would be._

The only seat left was opposite Owl near the cockpit door, the very front of the ship. The simple walk there past the Flightless made his skin crawl. When he sat down, pulled the bar over his head and finished buckling up all he got was venomous stares from Flightless and lidded tired ones from Owl.

 _Now,_ _this is just fucking depressing._

There goes the idea that maybe he'd talk to a few avians on the ship. Nope, awkward silence all the way he guesses.

The ramp to the back of the plane started to wind up and the door slid down. When the engines started to hum the feeling before returned, the… Uneasiness. Its thrums could be felt through the floor so quickly his talons were raised and placed on the bar under the chair. That helped slightly, at least.

 _You'll have to look at them eventually you know._

He wrapped his right wing around himself when the ship started to accelerate and gain altitude, the black feathers making for a good curtain. At least he didn't have to _see_ the others staring at him anymore, plus they wouldn't see his nervous tics.

Here we go,

 _The tags._

Focus on these instead of ship exiting the atmosphere…

 **HYBRID -**

FLIGHTLESS

It started here he guessed.

The word HYBRID being the largest thing printed on his tags, placed in a way so it would be the first thing anybody would see. It was eye-catching as possible, even raised higher than the other information.

The word FLIGHTLESS was only slightly smaller beside it. Grouping him in with _them._

Warn others of his fucking _impurity_ and disability.

He had expected this.

 _It's okay._

But he still hated to look at it, knowing he'd have the wear this around his neck, even if it was concealed under his uniform.

He _hated_ how he wasn't a luckier Hybrid, one that could still pass as one species or another, no he had to get the perfect fifty-fifty. Voice and caws to low and raspy, height too tall, a diamond-shaped tail, and feathers too dark to be _any_ type of crow, even less a hooded one. But his feathers are too short, wings the wrong shape, and talons too blunt to be raven.

Stuck in the middle.

 _He despised it._

When he'd filled out the forms to join he couldn't just _lie_ , anybody with fucking eyes would see through it right away. There was simply no point, avians who'd lied about their species would always find it biting them in the tailfeathers later anyway. Simmons had watched enough films to know that, plus the many real-life examples that's been forced onto the news over the years.

He couldn't say he _could_ fly either, that'd just be stupid.

He _had_ to put down what he was and simply buckle up for the way he was going to be treated. He hadn't known if he would be treated better or worse here than out in the real world.

With these tags, he was regretfully starting to realise that it would probably be the latter.

He didn't want to look at them anymore nor put them around his neck, instead shoving them into a breast pocket.

Simmons pulls his wing down slightly and tries to subtly peak over the top.

The sounds of the ship and other avians slowly started to seep into his ears. Some had their helmets on and were quietly chatting on their comms, others were reading from pads. The penguin next to the cockpit door was even _drawing_.

Could the silence of vast space also make noise?

…

 _You're wringing your hands again **Richard**._

 _You're embarrassing me._

 _Stop._

Owl.

Owl?

Owls eyes were staring intently at his. This guy had such creepy golden eyes, the black feather mask made them stand out all the more whilst also making him look like a fucking _racoon_.

Simmons had only caught it out the corner of his eye, and now they were stuck in a weird stare-off.

Eventually, he decided, nope, too weird for me and lowered his wing completely, tucking it oddly behind his neck, also _ow_ , and finally turned fully towards Owl.

He started off with a low voice trying not to draw attention from the others, 'Did you want to ask me something _Owl_?'

Owl's round eyes somehow widened even more as he flicked his gaze away, 'You talking to me?'

'… We're on a ship full of Flightless and I called you Owl. Who else would I be talking to?' A few of the Flightless' eyes turned their way, but they seemed to _mostly_ not care.

Simmons swallowed.

'Holy shit you guys _do_ have eyes!' Simmons jolted backwards. Somehow in the two seconds he'd taken to observe the rest of the ship this fucking Owl had fully leaned over and was once again looking him directly in the eyes. Embarrassment from before completely gone.

Did- Why- Was he embarrassed in the first place? _Everyone's looking at them._

 _Seriously… What… the fuck?_

Giving it a few seconds to actually comprehend what the fuck Owl had just said, and trying to ignore the eyes of the other avians, eventually, his words came back to him, 'Were you somehow of the opinion, that crows did not in fact, have eyes?'

'Ughh, no I don't mean like… _Eyes_ eyes, I mean like… The fucking… You've got brown eyes but black eyes instead of white so shits really hard to see and I can't tell where you're looking. You know?'

He only managed to mouth out a _what_ before thinking that, nah, he's just not up to dealing with this today. So, he did the first thing he could think off and simply pulled his right wing back around him, blocking out the world again.

'Oh, how fucking mature of you,' Owl stopped like he expected some sort of retort before realising it wouldn't be coming, 'Damn fucking crow.'

….

 _Damn fucking crow._

'C'mon we know you're in there!' He peeked over the edge of his window looking down at the boy, a little swift by the looks of it.

There were others with him, a vulture, a girl was there, she was an eagle of some sort, there was an older bright red parrot too.

An emu.

 **A Flightless.**

Useless wastes of space.

What's the point of an avian who can't fly?

 _There was no point to them._

This wasn't right, everything was mismatched, you're supposed to stay with your own species, they're the _only_ ones that would understand you for _you._

'We know you don't go to the same school but you must be really lonely!' The girl shouted up, cupping her mouth trying to sound louder.

'Yeah, you haven't come out at all in the month you've moved here!' The parrot had a deep voice.

They're not going away even though he was ignoring them. Would they go away if he asked?

'I'm not allowed to talk to other children, please go away!'

The one who spoke up started again, 'Oh, c'mon dude we're just talking through the window, we can see you, you know! Are you sure you don't want to at least talk‽'

He stood up further so they could see him more clearly before sliding the window up and shouting out again, 'I can't come out right now, sorry!'

'If you're busy now we don't mind if you want to come out later if you want! We're going to be out in the field and forest all day!'

Richard wants to do that, other avians _want_ to talk to him. _They look really nice._

Maybe… ' ** _Richard_** ,'

Father was standing in the doorway his wings blocking the entrance.

 _The escape._

 _'_ You _know_ I didn't want you talking to the other children. Look, they've got a Flightless with them too, you know we don't talk to their _kind_. I thought you knew that already, you're making the both of us look bad, _again_.'

Richard grit his teeth together as he turned back towards the window, the children had just started to walk away.

Talking among one another, smiling, laughing–

'Hey!'

They turned back towards him, he made sure to look directly at Emu, he was almost shrinking in his gaze. The others shifted too once they realised where he was looking.

'Don't dare come back! We don't associate with your _kind_.'

They gaped, maybe they didn't know he was Flightless? No, of course, they knew.

Why didn't they care?

 _' **Goodbye**! Please don't talk to us until you decide to come to your senses and get rid of the Flightless!'_

'Hey! Come back! _You damn fucking crow!_ You don't talk to him like th-'

He slammed the window down, surprised that the glass didn't crack with the force. Quickly he drew the curtain back over too.

'Good, Richard. You've made me proud. Maybe they'll come to their senses too one day.'

When he turned around away from the window the tears in his eyes were clear, the sniffling and tight throat only made him feel worse. They'd looked so happy, and then they'd looked at him…

Warm arms and wings enveloped him and suddenly he was sniffling into his father's neck.

'Oh hey, please don't cry Rich, you did really well.'

'I know father, they just looked really angry and –' Father hushed him holding him tighter. When he pulled back Richard looked into his black eyes and saw the sadness there too. He brushed his thumb over Richards tear-stained cheek.

'Hey, how about I take you to the bookshop in Marley town, you know, the one you really like? I'll buy you any book you want this time, would you like that?'

Still sniffling and with a quiet voice he responded, 'Yes please, I'd really like that, could I get that storybook I wanted, the one with the Swan and the pirates?'

Father stood back up and closed his wings again, still holding Richard's hand. 'Did I saw any book or what? C'mon if we go fast we'll get there before they're closed.'

He smiled, _'Yeah.'_

* * *

Simmons' discrimination and hatred towards the Flightless is bad and don't worry he's called out on that shit later.

Hey, I might as well put this here but I was in the Air Cadets for a bit when I was younger, Squadron 2443 if you want to look it up or something idk. I actually still know how to do basic marches and formations and shit. My social anxiety and stuff started to really swell around the same time. Eventually, it just got too nerve-wracking for me to continue and it was starting to affect my overall health so I had to stop. (Also, that's literally the extent of my military knowledge and it's not even the same fucking branch or country that I'm trying to write and also this is in the fucking future so sorry if I screw things up I'm trying my best here.)

How do I end this chapter? Fukin flashback dude, do it, do a flashback.


End file.
